Thursday, October 11, 2007

696

undo the past
picture
the words
not worth it
unsprung
sensation
early rising
displacement
and the wreckage
that would weaken
and the bells
they say would ring in
day's judgment
of offensive
unoffensive
menstruators
blue balled angry
penetrators
crashing down
into the blackness
sleep
is all
that's left
made my way
past the wreckage
past the thorns
of insane's requiem
up and against
those casualties
faded to black
and fell
and I
here
am fading
as well